1. Drunk
One of the few things Eleanor Cousland managed to teach her daughter about being a good-mannered lady was that drinking ale was something not appropriate for her.
Still, the first night that the Warden spends in a tavern with her new fellows on their way to Redcliffe, they hand her a pint and she couldn't refuse , she takes a sip and it goes immediately to her head. She becomes tipsy quickly, and she senses her inhibitions giving away to the power of the alcohol.
She keeps staring at Alistair's perfect face in awe, as she always does when his gaze is focused somewhere else. They're just starting to know each other, yet, she can't help but feeling attracted by him, his sweet smile, his lovely laugh, his beautiful voice with his sexy accent, and his funny sense of humor, giving her butterflies into her stomach. While she's lost in her own licentious thought about her comrade Grey Warden, she sees him darting out his tongue to lick a remnant of beer over his thin lip, and an unknown warm begins to spread into her core.
"Hey," she speaks as she catches him alone, "Has anyone ever told you how handsome you are?"
The young man glances at her, surprised. "Not unless they were asking me for a favor. Well, there was that one time in Denerim, but those women were… not like you." He raises a brow intrigued. "Why? Is this your way of telling me you think I'm handsome?"
"You know you're handsome, Alistair."
"Maybe. It doesn't hurt to have a pretty girl say that, though. Beats being run through with a sword any day!" He chuckles. "So… is this the part where I get to say the same?"
"Not unless you don't think so." she answers with a wicked grin.
"Oh, I think so. I'll just spring it on you when it's a surprise."
Lady Cousland giggles, but her mug is half empty and she is completely drunk.
"Sooooooooo…" She approaches him, now their faces are a few inches away. "If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never…?"
Next morning, the Warden wakes up in the camp with no idea how she got in there and with the most terrible headache of her life. Slowly, she sits on her rear and her eyes meet Alistair's, who's standing at the other side of the fire in front of her.
"Are you ok? This is your first hangover, isn't it?"
"Is it that obvious?" she asks, massaging her temples.
He nods, grinning. "Unless such shamelessness is a habit of people of Highever."
"Shamelessness…?" All of sudden the memories of the previous night come back into her mind, all the speeches about flying dogs, licking lampposts in winter and…
"Are you having strange dreams?" he questions her.
"Only ones where we're making mad love in my tent."
Oh Maker's breath! Did she really say this to him?
"Oh… I'm so sorry. I…"
She senses her cheeks burning as his lips curl up into a mischievous smirk. "Did you have another interesting dream, my lady?"
Damn it! I swear upon the Maker, I'll never drink ale in my whole life again!
